Against All Odds: The War Within
by CharlieCaller
Summary: There's not a thing they can do to stop him. How will the members of the 4077th deal with the progressively-insane Frank and his return as CO of the camp? (Complete)
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: The characters in the following story do not belong to me, but belong to M*A*S*H and its companies. I do however own Major Spicer, General Cole and General Thorpe.  
  
Title: Against All Odds 4: The War Within  
Chapter 1:  
"Scalpel."  
  
"Clamp."  
  
"Suction. thanks."  
  
"All right, next one in."  
  
It was almost too sterile in surgery for Hawkeye Pierce. He had been used to the light-hearted chatter that floated through the OR, but since those bygone days, things had changed. Henry Blake had gone home and back to the real world, as it was known. Their commanding officer could not really be classed as new to anyone, with a few exceptions.  
  
Frank Burns had returned, now a Colonel, and was in charge of the camp. Hawkeye had always wondered to himself how bad the war could get. He prayed that this was the peak.  
  
Not only was Frank about as good as a commander as a chocolate coffee pot had uses, but his surgical skills were just as bad. Frank tried to get through the day by asserting his authority, but a salute was all he got. No respect, Burns muttered to himself.  
  
Frank had returned to the 4077th, seizing the chance with both hands, with many goals in mind. He wanted to show up Henry Blake, as he thought the Lieutenant Colonel was an unsatisfactory commander, and that Frank could do better. True, Henry could be slack at times, but he knew that this was not just any old unit. This was a M*A*S*H, and Henry knew how to keep it that way. He had earned and deserved the respect of every member of the unit, except for Frank, of course.  
  
In OR that day, BJ Hunnicutt was trying to rebuild his confidence along with his patient. The last time he had performed surgery, his patient had died hours later, and this had lowered his confidence. Unfortunately, the operation was not going as well as planned.  
  
BJ cursed as the bleeding in his patient became worse. Frank immediately noted this. "Need any assistance, Hunnicutt?" Frank asked, desperate to get a chance to redeem himself in the OR.  
  
"We do want the guy to live," Hawkeye said tensely.  
  
"Watch it, Captain," Frank spat. "I rule this unit now."  
  
"That's what I'm afraid of," Trapper John McIntyre muttered.  
  
"I heard that, McIntyre," Frank snapped.  
  
Ignoring Frank, Hawkeye looked into BJ's patient. "Hey, you're doing fine."  
  
"You wanna do this? I'll take something I can cope with, like tonsils," BJ grumbled.  
  
Frank picked up on the unconfident surgeon. "I can finish him."  
  
"He said it himself," Hawkeye replied. "You'll be fine, Beej. You can do it. Don't let one let down get to you. Jeez, that was a mouthful." He watched BJ work for a moment whilst he was given a new gown, gloves and patient. "There, you're back on track now."  
  
BJ looked up. "Thanks, Hawk."  
  
"What did I do?" Hawkeye retorted good-humouredly.  
  
Margaret was not finding it easy to work alongside Frank again. She avoided him when she could, but she knew that it would be impossible to do that totally. She did her best when she was assigned to his table.  
  
"Suction," Frank growled.  
  
"Suction," Margaret replied monotonously.  
  
The atmosphere was frosty; both parties giving equally cool receptions.  
  
"Any colder and this guy's blood would be frozen," Hawkeye muttered under his breath.  
Some hours later, the last patient left. Trapper, who had worked on him, mulched through into the Scrub Room and collapsed from exhaustion onto the bench. The OR was gruelling at the best of times, but this session was all the more draining, all because Frank was present.  
  
Frank's ability as a surgeon had barely improved during his time away, and people wondered how he had made it to Colonel and Commanding Officer. (Another of the Army's ways of torture, Hawkeye said to them.)  
  
Trapper decided to pick himself up and had just enough energy to make it back to his cot in the Swamp. He was just settling in and closing his eyes when an announcement rang out and silenced, stunned and shattered the camp. "Attention, all personnel. By order of Colonel Burns, drinking and gambling are no longer permitted within the 4077th. That is all."  
  
Hawkeye sat up. "He can't do that!"  
  
BJ remained lying down, staring at the ceiling. "This guy has it in for mankind."  
  
Trapper shook his head in disbelief. "And we can't do anything about it."  
  
BJ secretly thought that he knew how to sort Frank out, but he kept it to himself.  
  
"I vote we fight fire with fire. Frank was always giving Henry trouble for being a bad commander by calling up various Generals. I vote we do the same," Hawkeye proclaimed.  
  
"Agreed," said the other two.  
  
"And for now, we hide the Still," Hawkeye added.  
  
"Where?" BJ asked.  
  
Trapper thought for a moment. "I know," he began. "Margaret's tent."  
  
"As long as she doesn't drink it dry," Hawkeye muttered.  
  
"Better than having no still at all," Trapper pointed out.  
  
"Agreed. Shall we make the big move now?"  
  
"How do we get it there without Ferret Face seeing?" BJ queried.  
  
All three sat and pondered this for a moment. "One keeps Frank busy, and the other two escort it," Trapper finally suggested.  
  
"No good. We'd need at least three to carry it," Hawkeye pointed out.  
  
"Well, how about we get someone else to keep Frank occupied?" BJ suggested. "Who immediately comes to mind?"  
  
"Not Radar," Hawkeye said firmly.  
  
"I agree. He's suffered enough as it is," Trapper added.  
  
BJ remembered being told of the teddy bear incident of the previous night. "Well, what about Klinger? He could disturb Ferret Face."  
  
"He IS disturbed," Hawkeye said.  
  
"Which one?"  
  
"Both, but Frank is chiefly disturbed," Trapper replied.  
  
"Okay, it's a plan," Hawkeye brought them back to the subject at hand. "Trap, you can prepare Margaret for her new tent mate, and I'll brief Klinger. BJ, see if you can track Frank down, ready for Klinger to intercept."  
  
The plan was set. When Trapper went to Margaret's tent, she was preparing to go to bed.  
  
"Hey," she said after he kissed her politely. "What brings you here?"  
  
"Margaret, is it okay if me, Hawk and BJ hide someone in here?"  
  
"Sure, what is it?"  
  
"The Still," Trapper told her.  
  
"The Still?!"  
  
"Frank just outlawed alcohol, and gambling too," Trapper explained.  
  
"Well, you can hide it in here, but I've no idea where," Margaret told him.  
  
"We'll find a place. Right now, the plan is that we three Swamp Rats carry the Still to your tent whilst Klinger distracts Ferret Face."  
"Good evening, sir, what can I do you for?" Klinger asked as he answered the knock at his door. No mudpack on his face, no curlers in his hair, no nail polish, no dresses. It was becoming a regular sight around the camp.  
  
"Can I come in? It's probably not safe to talk out here," Hawkeye said in a mock-spy style.  
  
"You know our fearing leader has just banned alcohol? Well, me, Trapper and BJ are going to hide our Still in Margaret's tent, and we need you to distract Frank whilst we're doing it, so that he doesn't catch us," Hawkeye explicated.  
  
"I see."  
  
"You'll be entitled to use the Still when you want," Hawkeye added, trying to sweeten the deal.  
  
"Sure, I'll do it, but any ideas how?"  
  
"Well," Hawkeye began, thinking about this. "Put on a nice dress?"  
  
"Sure, I've got just the one!" Klinger jumped up and pulled open his cupboard door.  
  
"Meet back in the Swamp in five minutes," Hawkeye called as he left Klinger to change.  
BJ found Frank in his office, tidying his belongings. It maybe lonely at the top, Frank thought to himself as he dusted, but at least I have my own office. His family had been so proud when he was promoted. Told the whole town, I'll bet, Frank thought to himself smugly.  
  
BJ watched through the dirty windows in the door as Frank pottered about. As he viewed the scene, BJ laid out his personal plan in his head. He would pull many-a practical joke on Frank. Nail his boots to the floor, sew up the arms in his jackets, put sand in his socks. the list was endless.  
  
BJ slipped away quietly, careful not to wake Radar. As we walked back to the Swamp, he thought about how well his pranks would turn out. Never once did the thought cross his mind that he was playing a very dangerous game. 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:  
Margaret swiftly opened the door to her tent as the three men struggled inside with their precious Still. "You make it okay? Oh, put it down there for now, I'll make room later, when you've recovered."  
  
They put it on a sheet on the ground and took a moment to rest. "I'll go back and get the glasses," BJ volunteered, heading back out of the tent.  
  
"How do you like your new room-mate, Margaret?" Hawkeye asked.  
  
"Just don't get too friendly," Trapper added, grinning.  
  
Margaret chuckled. "Don't worry, I couldn't drink the whole Still to myself."  
  
"Although you have tried," Hawkeye muttered loudly enough for everyone present to hear.  
  
Margaret gave him a look and was about to retort when BJ ran in. "Quick, Frank's heading this way!"  
  
Panic ensued. In a flash, the Still was hidden, partly under Margaret's bed and partly under some dirty clothes. Whilst the hiding took place, Hawkeye found a table and dealt some cards. Grabbing anything they could find to sit on, the four flustered friends began to play Gin. Voices neared the tent as they settled.  
  
"Sir, I keep telling you, I don't belong in the Army," Klinger whined.  
  
"Too right you don't, and that's exactly why you're going to stay there," Frank declared as he walked. He had spotted light from Margaret's tent and intended to find out what was occurring. Klinger, however, had other plans.  
  
"Sir! Look at me! I'm wearing a tiara! I'm wearing gold earrings! I'm wearing an evening bra and matching underwear, a red cocktail dress, pantyhose and white pumps. Don't you think there's something wrong there?"  
  
After a moment, Frank replied, "Yes. Your pumps don't match your dress, and your pantyhose has a ladder in."  
  
Klinger looked insulted as Frank continued. "Anyway, I thought you gave all that up, that crazy-stuff. That's what the rumour was, anyway."  
  
"That was until you came back," Klinger retorted dryly.  
  
Frank was angered at this comment. "To your quarters, soldier. Lights out. Dismissed!"  
  
Good old Klinger, Hawkeye thought to himself. He had bought them enough time to escort the Still and hide it.  
  
Frank did not bother to knock on the door of the tent. When he entered, he was taken aback to find the four staff playing a game of cards.  
  
"Don't believe in knocking, Frank?" Hawkeye asked innocently.  
  
"What are you doing?" Frank asked, ignoring the previous question.  
  
"Losing at Gin," BJ muttered, looking at his hand.  
  
"All four of you?"  
  
"You're flaunting your mathematic skills again, Frank," Trapper informed him.  
  
"It's lights out; to your quarters," Frank ordered, barging out of Margaret's tent.  
  
Putting the table away, Hawkeye said, "We'll be back in the morning to hide it properly."  
  
"Okay, good night," she called as the three captains left.  
  
Whilst the other two slept soundly, BJ remained awake. He was mentally planning the sequence of practical jokes that he would play on Frank. He decided that he would start off small, by sewing the cuffs of Frank's jacket together. An oldie, but a goodie, BJ thought to himself. With this idea in mind, he too drifted off to sleep.  
Frank could not sleep. He had a feeling, one that refused to leave him alone. He had suspected since the day he had arrived back at the camp that Margaret, HIS Margaret, was romantically involved with one of the doctors. He did not suspect BJ Hunnicutt, because he was too new to the camp, and did not have any real basis for a lasting relationship.  
  
He also did not think it was Trapper John McIntyre. He did not think that Trapper would be in a relationship so soon after the death of his wife and children, unless there was something special, and Frank doubted that there could be anything special between Trapper and Margaret.  
  
That left only Pierce. Of course, it had to be him! He remembered the incident when he had bawled at him for attempting to win Margaret back. It had to be jealousy that had ignited that tantrum. That smut-master and Margaret! "Boy, did she lower her standards," Frank thought to himself.  
  
With anger brimming, he plotted. He would watch Pierce's every move, and then catch him in the act. He would find a way to bring up charges against the Captain, get him a dishonourable discharge, or even executed or something, and then Margaret would be his once again.  
At breakfast the next day, three bleary-eyed doctors and one yawning nurse munched at their food.  
  
"I wonder where Igor hid the taste," Hawkeye muttered, spearing something on his tray.  
  
"Or the actual food," BJ added, looking under a stale slice of toast to see if there was any sign of it.  
  
From a distance, Frank watched closely. Joking, chatting, laughing. There was nothing unusual or even unlawful about that. He was waiting for one of them to show any sign of something more than friendship with HIS Margaret.  
  
Trapper and BJ left the table and went their separate ways. If Frank had any idea of what was going on, it would have been in his best interest to follow either one of the two. But, he suspected Pierce, and he was going to watch him like a hawk.  
Meanwhile, the newest of the Swamp inmates was carrying out the first of his practical jokes. Frank's coat pockets and sleeves were now sewn together. A childish prank, he knew, but he was starting small. There would be more to come.  
Hawkeye relieved Trapper from Post-Op duty just after lunch. Frank had followed him, and had taken up a perch at one end of the room.  
  
"Frank, I thought you would have learned by now that the patients don't get better just by looking at them."  
  
"Foo you," Frank retaliated. It was not the patients that he was watching.  
  
One of the patients beckoned Hawkeye over to him. "Hey, are you okay? Do you need something?" Hawkeye asked with concern.  
  
"You see that guy over there? The one with no lips?" Hawkeye nodded, trying to smother a smirk. "He's watching you," the soldier continued. "Do you know that?"  
  
"I think he's hot for me, but doesn't want anyone to know," Hawkeye joked.  
  
"Is he a doctor, like you?" The young man asked.  
  
"Not a doctor like me. I'm a good doctor. He's not, and the fact that someone else operated on you is the reason you and I are having this conversation. Most unfortunately, he's our CO."  
  
"Tough break," the Private sympathised.  
  
Hawkeye nodded. "Is there anything else you should warn me about?"  
  
"Yeah, there is. I'm not sure that nurse over there is a girl."  
  
On cue, Klinger turned around. "Is the patient in bed five okay to be moved, sir?"  
  
"Yes, Klinger, that's fine," Hawkeye replied. He turned back to the boy. "Don't mind her, she's just having one of those days."  
Trapper, meanwhile, was visiting Margaret in her tent. "He's getting to you, isn't he," Trapper stated, massaging Margaret's shoulders.  
  
"He's getting to everyone," Margaret reminded him. "You included."  
  
Trapper sighed. It was true. Within mere days, the camp morale had plummeted, as had the survival rate of the patients that rolled through the OR doors. No one knew how much trouble one snivelling simpleton could cause, Trapper thought to himself.  
  
"How's Radar doing?" Margaret asked.  
  
"He's been better," Trapper replied. "Henry did him a lot of good. Actually, I think that the fact that Henry was so lax and scatterbrained about the admin side of this unit meant that Radar could virtually run the place, leaving Henry to worry about the patients. Now that Frank is in charge, Radar is too scared to do his duties properly. I don't blame him, though."  
  
"No one is to blame, except maybe Frank," Margaret consoled. "I really honestly have no idea how this unit can function for much longer. My nurses are in a state. They dread the OR in case they have to work with Burns."  
  
"He's not planning to give anyone leave, to either Seoul or Tokyo," Trapper added. "He's nuts! Totally mad!"  
  
"And there's not a thing we can do about it," Margaret finished. "Mutiny would be our best option, except that we run the risk of receiving the death penalty for our efforts."  
  
Trapper just shook his head. He still feared one thing. Frank had still not found out that he and Margaret were an item. He hated to imagine Frank's reaction if he did find out. The chances were, it would not be good. 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3  
"There you go, Frank," BJ murmured. "Sweet dreams." He slipped the cap back onto the needle of the syringe and deposited it back into his pocket.  
  
He waited patiently for a few minutes for the drug to settle in before he got to work. He tucked Frank's blanket tightly around him, leaving an inch around the edge. He took up the first cold, steel nail, positioned it, and used a hammer to pound it into the blanket, securing it to the cot.  
  
Four nails later, BJ looked up, startled, to see a figure standing inside the tent, just in front of the door.  
  
"Radar?" BJ asked.  
  
"I heard the banging. I didn't know. I thought."  
  
"Hey, Radar, it's okay," BJ told him.  
  
"What are you doing?" Radar asked him.  
  
"Tucking Colonel Burns into bed," BJ replied.  
  
Radar gasped in realisation. "You sewed his cuffs together! He was not very happy when he found out. I had to unpick them all."  
  
BJ frowned. "I'm sorry, Radar. That was not part of my plan."  
  
"I don't mind. Why are you doing this, anyway?"  
  
"I'm hoping that before Frank can sort his personality out and make himself to be a decent human being, he needs to be able to laugh at himself. I thought I'd help him along with that."  
  
Radar nodded. BJ's plan, in the short-term, seemed to provide some amusement for the staff in the unit, but in the long-term, the effects could cause some problems.  
  
"Radar, please don't tell anyone about this. The longer it goes on, the more effective this could turn out to be."  
  
Radar agreed. It would be a big responsibility, keeping the secret from everyone in the camp, including Hawkeye and Trapper, but the consequences, if he did not, would not be good.  
  
The Company Clerk stayed to watch the rest of the show, grinning at what he imagined the end result of the prank would be like.  
  
"There," BJ announced, standing back to admire his now-finished work. "I can't wait until morning."  
  
Some hours later.  
  
"LET ME OUT!!"  
"Radar, when Frank and Margaret used to complain about us, who did they call.?"  
  
"General Thorpe's aid, Major Spicer, sir," Radar cut in, knowing exactly what Hawkeye wanted and why. He passed him the receiver.  
  
"Major Spicer here," a military voice greeted.  
  
"Major, this is Captain Pierce of the 4077th M*A*S*H," Hawkeye began in a no-nonsense tone.  
  
"What can I do for you, Captain?"  
  
"I wish to lodge a complaint against our newly-appointed CO, one Colonel Frank Burns. Actually, there are more complaints than just one."  
  
"What seems to be the problem?" The Major asked.  
  
"In the few days that he has been here, the camp morale has at least halved. Burns is power-hungry, and will do anything to make sure everybody knows that. I won't go into his surgical skills, which are non-existent."  
  
"I think that the CO is just having trouble finding his feet, being new."  
  
"You don't get it! Lives are at risk!"  
  
"I think that you are exaggerating this, Captain," Major Spicer told Hawkeye. "Goodbye."  
  
"But you." Hawkeye's final plea was cut by the phone line going dead.  
  
"I hate the Army," Hawkeye muttered, dropping the phone back into the bag and dropping his head into the crook of his arm on the desk.  
  
Hawkeye did not know what he expected to receive from higher army officials, but it was worth a try.  
  
Radar returned to the office with a piece of paper. "Hawkeye, I need to make an announcement. Are you done?"  
  
Hawkeye nodded, his head still cradled in his arm, and used his other hand to pass Radar the microphone to make public addresses to the camp.  
  
Radar shortly blew into the microphone twice before beginning. "Attention, all personnel. By order of Colonel Frank Burns, may the person or persons responsible for the recent rash of practical jokes own up within the next twenty-four hours. If this does not occur, the entire camp will suffer. That is all."  
  
"We couldn't suffer anymore if we tried," Hawkeye muffled to his sleeve.  
  
Radar said nothing, as he had promised. He hoped Frank would forget his threat, before the camp had more hassle to endure.  
He knew it now. He knew it for sure. He found it out by listening to a conversation between some nurses at lunch. He could not hear all of it, but he heard enough to know for sure.  
  
"You never met her before it happened, our Major Houlihan," one woman directed to the new nurse.  
  
"She was so strict, never allowed us to get away with anything."  
  
That was the way I loved Margaret, Frank thought to himself.  
  
"Since she and him got together, she's changed for the good."  
  
"You could see it sometimes before they got together, that there was definitely chemistry between them."  
  
"The Captain has done her good."  
  
So it was true. It was a Captain, and there were three in the camp. One, Hunnicutt, was no longer any kind of suspect, as the nurses had talked about a history previous to the start of the relationship, and Hunnicutt was too new to fall into this category. That left Pierce or McIntyre. Frank still had a gut feeling that it was Pierce. Well, who else?  
  
Perhaps confronting Margaret about it, Frank pondered. Confronting Pierce would never work. Denial, or a joke to pass it off would be all he would receive from the Captain.  
  
Tonight, Frank thought, he would go to Margaret and talk to her. Even if it took all night, he would get the truth out of her. He had to know for sure that Hawkeye was responsible before he took any action.  
  
Frank had planned to do this in the evening, but fortunately for Margaret and the man whom she was really dating, he never got the chance.  
  
Colonel Burns was walking out of Post-Op and towards his office when he saw BJ sneak in. Wondering what the Captain wanted from his office, he peered through the small window in the door. From there he could see the Captain fiddling with his chair. It looked familiar.  
  
Frank noticed Radar, who was practically squirming in his seat in front of the typewriter. "O'Reilly," Frank began. "What is Hunnicutt doing in my office?"  
  
Radar was on the spot, and Frank knew that the Corporal knew more than he had let of with the shrug of his shoulders.  
  
"We'll find out, shall we?"  
  
Knowing that the question had no answer, Radar followed as Frank barged into his office. Radar threw BJ an apologetic look before Frank began talking.  
  
"What's all this, Hunnicutt?"  
  
BJ swallowed, "I've read somewhere that putting talcum powder on your chair is better for you," he explained calmly.  
  
Not trusting the Captain, Frank said, "Fine. Test it for me."  
  
Sure enough, BJ sat on the chair. "See, it's fine," he told him.  
  
Now trusting that BJ was telling the truth, Frank went to do the same. BJ stopped him. "Oh, wait a minute, Colonel. You should have more than a wooden chair to sit on. Here, I put some on a cushion for you." He placed it on the seat for him.  
  
Frank nodded his approval and sat heavily on the seat. "Hmm, not bad," he began before he stopped. A burning sensation took over his backside, and he stood up quickly. He remembered why the powder had seemed familiar - it was itching powder, which had been used on him in a practical joke in his youth. Fuming he snarled, "You will live to regret this Hunnicutt."  
  
Trying not to laugh, BJ innocently asked, "Regret what?"  
  
Frank then saw the means of getting what he wanted. "O'Reilly!" He barked. "Look me in the eye."  
  
"Careful, Radar, you might turn to stone." BJ warned.  
  
"O'Reilly, look me in the eye and tell me who it was who sewed my jacket sleeves up, who nailed me to my bed and who put itching powder on my chair." Burns growled.  
  
Radar gulped. He had promised BJ he would not say anything. But, it was an order. What was he meant to do?  
  
Radar glanced over to BJ, who nodded solemnly, knowing that the game was over.  
  
Gravely, Radar admitted, "Captain Hunnicutt, sir."  
  
Frank frowned and smiled at the same time. "You will surely regret this, Hunnicutt. Your punishment for playing practical jokes on your superior commanding officer is guard duty shifts, until further notice, the night shifts." 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4  
"Hey Klinger, I'm here to relieve you," BJ informed him, walking over to his post.  
  
"You, sir? This is a joke, right?"  
  
"No, Klinger, this is the result of a joke. Three jokes, in fact."  
  
"Oh," Klinger realised. "It was you who pulled off those jokes! Who knows?"  
  
"You, Radar, and Frank," BJ replied. "The secret it out, and I'm paying for it."  
  
"Hey, Captain, let me advise you get another coat before you start your duty. It can get pretty cold out here."  
  
"All right, give me two seconds." True to his word, he had gone and returned in a flash, now with an extra sweater. "What else do I need to know?"  
  
"Tonight's password, which is 'Grapefruit.' The rest is easy. Don't fall asleep on the job. Here, take this," Klinger said, handing BJ his rifle.  
  
"I hope I won't have to use this," BJ murmured, eyeing the gun with suspicion.  
  
"I never have so far," Klinger told him. "It's lucky, really. I don't really know how. Good night, Captain."  
  
BJ stood, alone, armed with his rifle. It was cold, dark, and solitary. How much worse could things get? He had to ask, he thought to himself as rain began to pitter-patter upon him.  
  
It was going to be a long night.  
  
~~~  
  
Clad in army-print clothes, foliage attached to his helmet netting, and war paint smeared on his face, Frank prowled across the camp. Ducking behind one tent, diving in front of another, his destination held the sign, "Knock Before Entering," on the front of it.  
  
He looked at his watch. Five to nine. Rats, he thought to himself. In a few minutes he had four hours of Post-Op duty ahead of him. Oh well, he thought, I'm the boss; I can excuse myself for being late.  
  
As he crawled quickly away from the latrines, he spied BJ relieving Klinger for guard duty. Frank sneered. By the third night, Hunnicutt would be begging for forgiveness. Then, he would hold him as putty in the palm of his hand, to mould as he wished.  
  
Frank continued on his bizarre journey across the compound.  
  
~~~  
  
"Don't you have a card lower than the King of Spades?" Trapper asked Radar.  
  
"Yeah, I've got the Seven," Radar replied.  
  
"Radar, the idea is NOT to get the Queen of Spades," Margaret explained for what felt like the hundredth time.  
  
"I thought you weren't meant to get the Hearts," Radar protested.  
  
"You avoid the Hearts AND the Queen of Spades," Trapper told him.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because that's the rules!" Hawkeye snapped. He immediately felt bad and regretted this action when he saw the hurt look on Radar's face. "Hey, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell. I think it's just."  
  
"Burns," all three finished, knowing they were right.  
  
"Yeah, him," Hawkeye confirmed anyway.  
  
~~~  
  
Frank heard everything as he snuck around the tents. They hated him. Well, obviously nothing had changed. Pierce and McIntyre had never liked him. But now, it seemed that everyone hated him. Even Hunnicutt, the practical joker, hated him too. And O'Reilly, the mere enlisted Company Clerk, and even Margaret. No one could stand, endure, or tolerate him.  
  
Still, who needs friends when you have power, Frank consoled. The power he held could even generate the friends he lacked, he decided. He chuckled. He would order them to be friends with him.  
  
He considered, with that thought in mind, that he could even make Margaret love him again. Yes, he could see it now. It would be pulling rank for a needless reason, but then again, he needed Margaret. He would go simply mad without her!  
  
~~~  
  
BJ was beginning to tire now. He looked at his watch for what seemed to be the billionth time. Ten minutes past three. Only another hour and fifty minutes, he thought to himself, and then he could go into the Swamp for some much-deserved rest.  
  
BJ decided that guard duty had to be the most mind-numbing job in the whole war. Of course, it was still preferable to fighting at the Front, but still, it made him restless.  
  
He had carried out several hundred verses of 'Ten Green Bottles Sitting on the Wall' to try and release the boredom, and to more importantly keep himself awake. The storm had done a good job before it had passed, but he needed something new to keep him going.  
  
He had marched up and down the compound a few times. He had performed a dance or three, and had even taken a bow at the end of each. He had even hoped for an enemy soldier to stroll through the compound. Anything to keep him awake and to cease his eyelids from drooping over his pupils.  
  
~~~  
  
"Since when does BJ's Post-Op duty shift last the whole night?" Hawkeye wondered. Margaret and Radar had long since retired to their tents, and the two Captains had gone to bed. Hawkeye had woken up three hours later, looked at his watch, and glanced to see and question why BJ's cot in it's still empty state at five to five in the morning.  
  
"Post-Op shift?" Trapper mumbled, waking up fully. And then he suddenly realised. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but since we have two patients, Frank was meant to do the first half of the night and then leave two nurses to the other half of the night."  
  
"That's what I thought, but where else could he be?"  
  
Trapper was now concerned. "Perhaps we should go and look for him."  
  
"Too cold," Hawkeye mumbled, burrowing deeper under the covers.  
  
"All the more reason," Trapper pointed out.  
  
As Hawkeye was about to suggest they give it another two minutes before commencing a search, the door barged open and a ghost of a figure stumbled in and collapsed onto the cot nearest the door. The figure shook, shivering.  
  
"We found him," Hawkeye called. He got up, wrapping his blanket around him, and walked over to BJ's exhausted form.  
  
"Which nurse wore you out, Beej? Point her in my direction." As he neared the cot, he could see that BJ was cold, damp, and shaking.  
  
"Hey, BJ," he called, anxiety in his voice. "Beej?"  
  
A grunt erupted from the Captain.  
  
"BJ, you have to get out of those wet clothes," Hawkeye urged. Trapper was up and alert on hearing this statement.  
  
"BJ, where have you been? Why so cold and wet?"  
  
The Captain replied something incoherent, and still refused to move.  
  
"I'll get him out of his clothes, you find some blankets," Hawkeye organised, leaping into doctor-mode.  
  
Trapper ran to the Supply Tent and was back sometime later with armfuls of blankets and a mug of warm water. "No coffee," he warned. "It tastes like mud, and has the same texture."  
  
BJ, by this time, was more alert and had warmed up. He took the drink gratefully and sipped it.  
  
"Beej," Hawkeye began, some minutes later. "What happened?"  
  
BJ smirked just slightly, remembering the source of the problem. "Burns put me on night watch," he told them. "Man, I really can't figure how those guys can stand it!"  
  
The jaws of both Hawkeye and Trapper had lowered several inches. "He did WHAT?"  
  
"Guard duty," BJ repeated.  
  
"What the hell did he do that?" Hawkeye yelled angrily.  
  
"Because someone recently sewed his cuffs together, nailed him to his cot and put itching powder on his chair. That same person got caught and punished for it," BJ explained, almost proud to admit that he was the prankster.  
  
"You? You pulled off those pranks?"  
  
"Well, I pulled two off," BJ corrected.  
  
"No wonder he saw red," Trapper muttered. "I think you got off lucky. Given his current Hitler-like state, you could have easily been hung."  
  
"BJ, what the hell were you playing at?!" Hawkeye demanded to know.  
  
"I knew the risk I was running, and I took my chances," BJ replied coolly. "You said he deserved everything he could get, so I thought I'd give him some."  
  
"You shouldn't have, not when the stakes are that high," Hawkeye told him.  
  
"Well, at least you did your night of guard duty," Trapper interjected, trying to avoid an argument breaking out before dawn. "It's over now."  
  
"Who said anything about it being about just one night?" BJ asked rhetorically. "I'm doing every night, period, until further notice. If you'll excuse me, I've got several hours of sleep to catch up on." With that, BJ turned over awkwardly in his numerous blankets and began this process.  
  
Hawkeye just stared. "Every night?"  
  
Scornfully, Trapper grumbled, "And there's not a thing we can do to stop it." 


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5  
That evening, Frank found BJ trying not to fall asleep in his dinner. BJ put his drowsiness down to the foul stench evaporating from the food.  
  
"Good evening, Hunnicutt," Frank greeted cheerfully. "How's the food?"  
  
"Is that what it is?" BJ asked.  
  
Frank forced a chuckle. "You're funny, you know."  
  
"I hope I can take that as a compliment," BJ muttered.  
  
"You know," Frank began. "You and me could make a very good team."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Sure we could. I like you better than those other two jerks, Pierce and McIntyre."  
  
BJ realised that Frank was trying to by sly and bluff something out of him. He decided to play along and see where the conversation was heading.  
  
"You like me better than them? Even after I pulled all those practical jokes on you?" BJ asked innocently.  
  
Frank smothered a grimace. "You know what? I'll forget about those, AND the punishment, IF you do something for me. We'll be working as a team, as I said before."  
  
"What do you want me to do?"  
  
"Tell me who is dating Margaret."  
  
BJ hoped that the second he had spent hesitating, having been caught off his guard, had gone unnoticed to Frank. "Dating Margaret? No-one!"  
  
Unfortunately, Frank was not buying it. He snarled, "Report for guard duty at twenty-one hundred hours." He stormed off.  
  
BJ shook his head and continued to pick at his food. Unbeknown to him, a certain Corporal had witnessed the entire argument.  
  
~~~  
  
Trapper padded quickly across the compound later that evening, heading towards Margaret's tent. To an observer, it would appear that his quick movements were so he could escape the cold and sleety rain, but in reality, he wanted to get inside Margaret's tent without being seen by Frank.  
  
He slipped quickly inside, and was greeted with a kiss from Margaret.  
  
"Oh, Trapper, you must be freezing!" She exclaimed on embracing him.  
  
"We've had warmer weather," Trapper remarked. He remembered glancing to see BJ on guard duty, and frown at the recollection.  
  
Reading his thoughts, Margaret asked, "Is BJ on duty again?"  
  
Trapper nodded. "Hawkeye said he'll do something about it first thing in the morning. He already tried today, and more times before that. It can't go on! Today, BJ did his Post-Op duty, and now it's Guard Duty by night. In between, he snatched a couple of hours of shut-eye. It's crazy!"  
  
"And Burns won't do a thing about it," Margaret added. "He is the most inhumane man I've known!"  
  
"He's power-hungry," Trapper said. "He'll do anything to get people to obey him, and to get people to look up to him. He think that's all life is about. Before I had people serve me, I'd want their respect and friendship. That's what made Henry the great commander and what gave him the great reputation he left Korea with."  
  
Margaret chuckled. "You're right. He was scatterbrained, thoroughly unmilitary and could often be found drunk as a skunk, but he was a great commander and doctor. Everything that Frank isn't."  
  
"And never will be," Trapper finished.  
  
~~~  
  
Hawkeye sat reading the 'Crabapple Courier' when there came a quiet knock at the door. He looked up to see Radar standing with his teeth chattering. "Come in, Radar," he called. "You can thaw out by the stove."  
  
Radar gladly hastened inside, and made a beeline for said stove. "Thanks," he replied.  
  
"Anything up, Radar?" Hawkeye asked, putting the newspaper aside.  
  
"No sir," he replied. He silently added that he felt a bit lonely.  
  
Hawkeye almost read his thoughts. "I'm guessing that the Officer's Club has been shut down?"  
  
"Yes, sir," Radar confirmed.  
  
"Hey, Radar, no need for any 'sirs' in this tent. Leave them for Burns, okay?"  
  
Radar nodded. "Oh, hey, a letter from Colonel Blake came in Mail Call today."  
  
"That's good. What does it say?"  
  
"He says he's home safe and sound, and loves being a father again. He heard at the airport that Major Burns is now a Colonel and our CO, and he says he can't imagine how we are putting up with it. And he says he's missing us all." Radar read no more.  
  
Hawkeye put a hand on the Clerk's shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly.  
  
~~~  
  
Frank had seen it. This time, he had spotted who it was, who the culprit was, and in a few moments, the guilty party would be exposed.  
  
So, the Colonel thought to himself, it was not Pierce after all. It's always the one you lease suspect. It was McIntyre who was with Margaret, with HIS Margaret. Well, McIntyre was about to get a nasty shock.  
  
Frank hurried to the door of Margaret's tent and burst through the door. Margaret and Trapper were found in each other's arms, lips locked. When they heard the disturbance, they looked up and gasped. Frank sneered.  
  
"I knew that someone was with my Margaret."  
  
"Your Margaret?!" Major Houlihan exclaimed.  
  
"I thought, all along I thought it was Pierce," Frank muttered. "It was you! You, you degenerate! You have been exploiting Margaret!"  
  
"Colonel Burns," Margaret stormed. "I am not your property! You should have gotten over me a long time ago!"  
  
"But Margaret," Frank whined.  
  
"But nothing!"  
  
"I can't believe you'd ever love someone lower than your own rank," Frank muttered crossly.  
  
"I can't believe I ever loved you! Get out of my tent!"  
  
Frank leered at Trapper before he left, knowing that the Captain would soon get his comeuppance.  
  
Trapper wrapped his arms around Margaret, who was shaking with anger. She calmed down surrounded by the loving support.  
  
"Let's go to the Swamp," he suggested. She nodded, not daring herself to speak.  
  
They entered Tent Number Six to find Hawkeye and Radar playing cards.  
  
"Too quiet in your tent?" Hawkeye asked, not looking up at first. When he did, he saw the stony looks on both their faces and realised that not all was well within camp. "What happened?"  
  
"Burns," Trapper told him. No more needed to be said. Both Hawkeye and Radar knew that Frank had found out about their romance.  
  
"What's his plan of action?" Hawkeye enquired.  
  
"Nothing as et. He'll probably take the night to cool off before he does anything. I'd sure like to know who tipped him off," Trapper added, almost growling.  
  
"Trap, you can't be sure that anyone told him," Hawkeye reasoned.  
  
"That's right. Knowing that weasel, he's probably spied on me since he got here," Margaret put in.  
  
"He spied and asked people," Radar spoke up.  
  
All eyes turned to the young Corporal, who up to that point had remained silent. "What do you know, Radar?" Hawkeye asked.  
  
"He asked BJ outright in the Mess Tent, at dinner," Radar explained. "He says, 'Who's dating Margaret?' Before that, he was trying to get on BJ's better side, saying that he liked BJ and wanted to be friends, stuff like that. BJ said nothing, and he paid for it."  
  
"How?"  
  
"Colonel Burns said that if BJ told him, he would stop the guard duty. But, since he didn't, he still out there."  
  
Hawkeye, Margaret and Trapper looked at each other in disbelief. "He kept that quiet," Trapper murmured.  
  
"For goodness sake, he should have said something! He's doing guard duty for no reason!"  
  
"There was a reason earlier," Hawkeye pointed out. "Besides, even telling him that, I'm sure he wouldn't have done anything differently."  
  
Margaret nodded, knowing how true this was. It was late by then, so the four decided to retire for the night. Just as Radar was leaving the Swamp, he stopped sharply and listened. "Choppers!" he called, breaking into a run towards the landing pad.  
  
"How many?" Hawkeye called, hearing his cry and running with him. As he sprinted, he heard the blades in the distance, and the announcement ring out over the camp.  
  
"Three," Radar called back, seeing the aircraft coming around the side of the hill.  
  
~~~  
  
In surgery, Hawkeye could not help but notice BJ's irrational behaviour. It was nothing in particular, but little things that caught his attention. After finishing his second patient, Hawkeye glanced behind him. BJ was having trouble remaining awake, and he seemed confused as to what he was doing. He saw that the colour of BJ's skin was not its usual shade, but more of a blue-greyish colour.  
  
BJ took a shallow breath and said, "There. Close, nurse." His speech was slow. Hawkeye knew the symptoms and called out, "How many more patients?"  
  
"One more," Klinger replied, carrying in the last casualty on the stretcher. "Who wants him?"  
  
"Trap," Hawkeye called, turning back to see his gurney contained another patient. "How close are you to closing?"  
  
"A minute," Trapper called back.  
  
"Good, you can have the next one," Hawkeye commanded.  
  
"But, I can take him," BJ protested.  
  
"BJ, it's simple. You can't. You're ill."  
  
"I'm not, I'm fine."  
  
"He's not leaving until everyone has finished," Frank piped up.  
  
"Another new rule, Frank?" Trapper queried.  
  
"You can't keep him here, he's sick!"  
  
"I'll say when he's sick," Frank told them.  
  
"If you get to see when BJ is sick then I get to say when you're sick. Frank, you're sick. You're a sick man with inhumane tendencies. You're sick when you ban alcohol and whatever else you've outlawed. You're sick to spy on certain members of the camp, and you're sick to send doctors out on full nights of guard duty. I'll tell you now, Colonel Burns, we're sick too - sick of you!" Hawkeye was livid by the end of his speech.  
  
Frank seethed with anger. "Hunnicutt, you will remain at your table, standing to attention, until surgery is completed. That's an order."  
  
BJ complied, and no more was said. When surgery was finished, Frank went directly to Post-Op duty, and the three doctors headed into the Scrub room.  
  
"He has no right to be a CO, doctor or a person!"  
  
"He's none of them!"  
  
"He's a dictator"  
  
"A wannabe dictator."  
  
"Just a wannabe."  
  
"His aim in life is to find the most ways to commit malpractice."  
  
"So far he holds the record."  
  
"Infinity doesn't even quite cover it."  
  
"Infinity to the power of infinity comes closer."  
  
As Hawkeye and Trapper continued to let off steam, BJ began to slide down the wall he had been leaning against, and came to a stop on the floor.  
  
On hearing the soft thud of BJ's body meeting the ground, Hawkeye and Trapper stopped talking and looked for the source of the noise. Once they found it, they leapt into doctor-mode.  
  
"Dilated pupils," Trapper reported on checking.  
  
"Shallow breathing," Hawkeye reported. "Hey, can you hear me?"  
  
BJ's eyes looked up. "Gee, I must have dozed off for a second there," he muttered, getting unsteadily to his feet. He swayed slightly, and grabbed the side of the sink to assist him.  
  
"Can you tell me what your name is?" Trapper asked.  
  
"BJ Hunnicutt," he replied slowly.  
  
"Okay, BJ," Hawkeye began. "Come into Post-Op with us. You've got hypothermia."  
  
"What? No, I haven't. It's probably just a cold."  
  
"You have, really. You never took off your wet clothes before you put your scrubs on," Trapper enlightened him.  
  
"I'm fine," BJ told them. When they grabbed him, each with one arm, in order to physically direct him to Post-Op, he resisted. "Hey! Stop it! I'm okay!"  
  
"You're not," Hawkeye assured him. Trapper and Hawkeye had to drag him into Post-Op. Unfortunately, BJ was not the only person protesting the illness.  
  
"I won't allow him to take up a bed for just a cold," Frank announced.  
  
Hawkeye was about to retort when Trapper stepped in. "Hawk, the more time we spend arguing, the less time we've got for BJ. We'll just take him back to the Swamp and treat him there."  
  
They took him and, as they had done the previous night, removed his cold, damp clothes. They wrapped him in several blankets and set him in his cot, which they had moved closer to the warming stove.  
  
Hawkeye found as many hot water bottles as he could rustle up, wrapped them in warm, moist towels and added them to the bundle. "We want to keep his temperature from dropping any lower, and not bring it up too sharply," he reminded both himself and Trapper, who had just returned with a mug of warm, sweetened water.  
  
"Sip this," he offered.  
  
After the thermometer had been removed from BJ's mother, he refused. "It's okay, you don't need to do this."  
  
Hawkeye looked at the thermometer. "31 degrees Celsius," he read. "We have a problem here."  
  
"All we can do is wait, and make sure the temperature doesn't drop."  
  
"And make sure we don't warm him too fast."  
  
"We should take turns, with one of us watching him to make sure he's okay," Trapper suggested.  
  
"Good idea. I'll start, and wake you in a few hours time."  
  
Trapper nodded, and went to his cot to grab some sleep. He left Hawkeye with his concerns for BJ, and his thoughts for what he planned to do in the morning. 


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6  
  
"Radar," Hawkeye began, finding the Clerk at his desk. "I need to make a phone call."  
  
"Yes sir," Radar replied, beginning the process for this action.  
  
"Remember, I am never a sir," Hawkeye told him. "Only Burns is a sir, and hopefully the new Queen of England will have the common sense NOT to knight him."  
  
"I'll get it right one day. Sparky? Yeah, it's me. I need to place a call to."  
  
"Ferret Face's last unit," Hawkeye filled in the blank.  
  
"Ferr. oh, erm, the 157th, okay? Yeah, I'll hold." Covering the receiver, Radar asked, "Why there?"  
  
"You'll see," Hawkeye assured him, being passed the receiver. "Hello? 157th? This is Captain Pierce, of the 4077th M*A*S*H. Can you tell me; do you know if your unit recently contained a Major Frank Burns? Yeah. you all hated him?"  
  
Hawkeye spent the next ten minutes listing down the offences that Frank had caused whilst being present in the unit.  
  
"Thank you very much, you've been most helpful."  
  
"Now what?" Radar asked as Hawkeye replaced the receiver.  
  
"Now we call anyone who will listen, and tell them that we want Burns out," Hawkeye told him.  
  
"Who first?"  
  
Hawkeye called three people before he found what he was looking for.  
  
"Hello? General Cole? Captain Pierce, of the 4077th M*A*S*H. I understand that you know a Colonel Frank Burns?"  
  
"Burns? Oh yes, him," Cole replied, sounding as though he rated Frank being close to something nasty upon the sole of one's shoe.  
  
"I'll be frank, Colonel, although not Frank Burns. He is the newly appointed commander of our unit, and he is a complete and utter shambles. His diploma as a doctor is just worthy as being the paper in the latrines, and his skills as a commander are not worth even that. The camp morale has dropped so low that it is unthinkable, thus causing us to lose more and more patients, even without his help in the OR. He has outlawed drinking, gambling, and generally anything to keep us sane. His latest feat is that he has sent one of our three surgeons, not including himself in that number, on guard duty over the past two nights, and this surgeon now has a severe case of hypothermia. We have considered mutiny, but have decided to go about a case like this in the proper way before that occurs. Whatever the outcome, General, this man is a lunatic, who is power-hungry and wants his own way all the time. It may sound very harsh, but this unit cannot function for much longer unless someone does something!"  
  
The General listened patiently to Hawkeye's long speech, and answered calmly. "I promise you now, something will be done, and it will be done soon."  
  
This was not the answer that Hawkeye had expected. "It will?"  
  
"I'll tell you something, Pierce," Cole began. "I met Burns, and I know exactly what you are talking about. General Stratton promoted him, and I objected to it for many of the reasons you listed. Bernie wouldn't listen to reason, though. I meant to keep track of Burns' movement, but I never found the unit he was stationed at. Now that I have, and you have voiced your own opinion of him, I will make sure that something is done. I will set up a hearing, and if all goes well, Burns will be out and you will be appointed a new, more capable CO."  
  
Hawkeye digested the information before replying, "Thank you, General. It is good to know that there is someone at the top with competence." Hawkeye decided that a complement would not hurt.  
  
"Thank you, Pierce. It is also reassuring to know that there are those nearer the bottom with ingenuity."  
  
"Just one thing, Colonel. You are sure that you can provide us a CO who is better than Burns?"  
  
"I can't think of anyone worse than Burns, but yes, I do promise that. Good day, and we will speak again soon."  
  
Hawkeye replaced the receiver in the box, feeling considerably happier than he had felt for quite a few days. He turned to Radar. "It's done. He's going to get a court hearing, and if all goes well, we'll get a new CO."  
  
Relief washed over Radar's face, but before he could report the good news to the camp, Hawkeye stopped him. "Not yet, Radar. This stays between us for the moment. If word gets around and Frank finds out." Hawkeye trailed off, not really wanting to know what would happen. "Don't worry, though. It will all be over soon." I hope, he thought silently to himself.  
  
~  
  
~  
  
~  
  
A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed and liked the story! The fifth one is being written currently, for those of you who aren't bored of this series yet. Note to the masked maniac writer, who reviewed after the fourth chapter - I was getting to the part where they do something about it, as you may have just read in this chapter depending on whether you stuck around to or not. Thanks again everyone! 


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